We're having another...

So I must tell a story to go along with the revelation, because the story is priceless.

The whole fam went to the ultrasound facility: The dad who is beyond excited about this little bump forming in my belly; the princess who is hoping for twins, a boy and a girl; the boy who is learning to use the potty and likes to bang everything and ... the exhausted mother. We were a sight to be seen walking into the lobby out of the uncommon freezing FL temperatures.

Jackets started peeling off of the princess (who must have some crazy high metabolism because 19-degree weather doesn't seem to phase her). I was given the task of filling out three sheets of paperwork while trying to answer a question from the princess every 10 seconds. Potty boy was faithfully being asked by dada if he needed to go to the bathroom while trying to keep him off the floor and out from under the end tables and not stand in the way of other patients trying to enter and/or exit. Thankfully, we had some pretty patient grandparent-ish looking people willing to wait for the mini-michelin-man to roll out of the way.

We were called back to the warm and cozy examining room (isn't 'cozy' the word realtors use instead of cramped?). Dada, with little tyke and princess in tow, was directed to squeeze inbetween the paper-covered examination table and the wall for them all to watch, and I, well you know the drill. After successfully launching myself up onto the examination table without totally looking like a one-legged walrus, I pulled open my garments to expose my emerging belly.

Just to get it out first so there's no questioning her abilities, our ultrasound tech was very kind, accommodating of us all and knowledgeable.

Picture this: Dark, cozy, warm, room with 5 of us in there. Me, flat on my back, literally. US tech doing her job and taking measurements. Katherine standing quietly next to the exam table, with her chin and fingers resting on the side, staring at everything going on baby-related. She's watching the gooey gel be put on my belly, I'm explaining the wand the tech uses to scan my belly, pointing out to her on the screen the baby's parts, asking her if she can see the baby, showing her the baby's heart, etc.

And then there's Nathan, the one people affectionately refer to as "all boy."

He's pulling on cords or trying to stick his finger in electrical sockets, trying to rip off the exam table paper I'm lying on, insisting on watching tractor videos on the computer monitor, kicking the metal casing along the bottom of the exam table or his sister, performing the arched-back parental-release technique when Jim tried to hold him still, wanting to take off most of his clothes and insisting on going pee-pee NOW!

Thankfully no blood-pressure stats on me were being taken and I quietly and calmly told Jim, "If you'd like to take him outside, that'd be okay with me."

The US tech kindly said, "He's not bothering me, so don't feel like you have to. He's fine in here."

And within a minute that's when I knew what we were having. Not because of a picture I saw on the monitor, but because of this one question being timidly asked, "So, were you wanting to know what you are having?"

You see, if it she had asked with a sparkle in her eye while winking at Katherine, I would have known then also. But it wasn't.

She showed us the three dots that signify a boy. It was as plain as day. There were no lines to look at, just dots. So, after we showed the US tech our excitement, she then explained that that part of her job is usually the hardest because she never knows how people will react. We reassured her that we were not 'those' people, that we were happy with whatever God had decided to bless us with.

Looking back in hindsight, her timid questioning was more out of experiencing not so happy parents rather than what our Captain Destructo was doing. But, at the time, it seemed otherwise.

Christmas Card 2010

Our Christmas Card for 2010

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. Romans 15:13

Do you think I'd get arrested if I let him pee outside the store?

I got pretty brave the other day. Seven days into potty-training, I decided to venture out into the deep, dark, black hole of nothingness, also known as Wal-Mart. It was a much needed trip and I prepped as much as I could. Extra clothes, successful potty-break before we left, pad in the car seat, short list and shopping route prepared, etc. I was as ready as I could have been.

All the items were in the basket and I was on the way to the check-out when Nathan started staring off into oblivion and he was "concentrating." I abruptly stopped the shopping cart, placed my hand over his crotch and said, "No, pee-pee in your pants!"

Oh to be a fly on the wall for the next 15 minutes.

I noticed a nickel-size wet spot on the outside of his pants and encouraged him to "Hold it! Hold it! No pee-pee in your pants! We're going to the bathroom right now. No pee-pee in your pants! Hold it! Katherine sit down and hold on!"

We made a bee-line directly to the lovely I'd-rather-squat-outside-the-building bathrooms at Wal-Mart. I unloaded two dazed and confused children and luckily the handicapped stall, though I like to refer to it as the "Family" stall, was arms wide opened, ready for our arrival. Nathan did conveniently stick his arm out and run it along the length of the tile wall as he was walking in. I mean, how do you know what a tile wall feels like while walking alongside it, unless you try it?

It wasn't a full house, but there were at least 2 other occupants in same room. I can only pray that they were mothers or grandmothers because only the baptized-in-children few would have understood what was going on in our stall. God help those ladies if they hadn't been around children very much.

I did my best to "cover" the seat with flimsy 1-ply toilet paper. Don't know why because every time I do the hiney-hover-landing on top of the paper, it's always moved and a piece of the germ-infested seat has been exposed, touching skin.

This is where the dialogue started to get sketchy, or maybe the best adjective would be, interesting.

At home, when it's potty showtime, the bathroom is quiet, free of distractions and many times I've had to ask Katherine to step outside for Nathan to have his privacy. She understands and starts dressing up a Barbie or something. Him and I usually have about 3-5 seconds worth of locked-in-eye time while I hypnotize him into going, or basically whisper sweet nothings. But we didn't have that luxury in the current facility, so the distractions were abounding.

Nathan's eyes were darting from one corner of the bathroom to the other, listening to conversations and watching his sister bounce around the large Family stall. I did my best to get his attention,"Nathan, it's time to go pee-pee honey. Shhhh, I don't hear it. Is there pee-pee coming out?"

Poor guy, he's trying to listen to me and concentrate on releasing the flood gates the entire time his sister is skipping around like a fairy and asking a hundred questions about what the toddler restraint seat is for.

K: "Mom, how do you put this on? Does this go over your head and then it clicks, like this? Is this for babies that open the door when their mommy is pee-ing? I think Nathan should get tied up in this, don't you? So, babies just sit on it like this?"

M: "Katherine, hush! Be still and be quiet! He hasn't gone yet and he needs to concentrate. Just stop!"

This is where the contorted mouth enters. I'm doing my best to be quiet, yet firm and let my little ones know I'm serious. So what better thing to do but turn both sides of my mouth down, scrunch up my nose, enlarge my eyeballs to a freakish size and talk without trying to move my lips. You know, the silent mom yell (hereby referred to as [smy]) I remember Bill Cosby perfecting.

N: "Mama, I all done."

M: "No, no, no you're not, you've haven't let the pee-pee out yet. I didn't hear it. [smy] Get your hand out of your mouth. This bathroom is disgusting, full of bugs that get in your ears and hurt."

Sidenote: Two weeks ago our Dr. visit yielded yet another ear infection and the best way I could describe it to Nathan was that bugs got in his ear and were stinging him. He got stung by something a couple weeks before that on his thumb so, now he describes ear infections as bugs in his ears. But the rest of the world doesn't know that story, we just sound like Rainbow people living in the woods with a hygiene problem when I tell that story in public.

N: "Mama, I all done."

M: "No, you're not, stay there and look me in the eye. [smy] Katherine, be still and don't put your hands in your mouth either. Let the pee-pee out."

Silence has overcome the bathroom. Probably some out of fear and some out of wondering if I would make it out alive.

And we have a tinkle sound.

You could almost hear the other women breathe a sigh of relief.

There was lots of praising, high fives, reminders to keep hands out of the mouth and convincing Katherine that she really didn't need to go here, it could wait until we get home.

Pull the pants up, make sure I'm not leaving a child or a purse in the stall and we head to the sinks. Nathan was thrilled because there was a shorter one and he declared 4 times in a row, "I unna do it all by myself, Mama!"

This is also when, in the heavenly realms of angels watching over mommies and children, one angel passed on her lighted torch to another. As we walked to the sinks, there was a younger mother there changing her child on the diaper changing table.

The torch has been passed because my angel was exhausted and ready to pass out.

That's all Katherine needed to see: an infant. It didn't matter what the infant was doing, it could have been hanging from the ceiling or even chewing on it's hand, it's an infant and she's mesmerized by them. So, one child is occupied, still and quiet and I've got the chance to take care of the other one.

I do as little assisting as I can with Nathan washing his hands and remind him once more, [smy] "Do not put your hands in your mouth." Dry off his hands and tell him, [smy] "Do not touch ANYTHING!"

And then it happened again. Well, maybe not the torch passing, but star-sprinkled glitter dust fell from the heavens and provided my little family with another toddler to attract Nathan's attention. The young mother calmly changing the infant's diaper also had an adorable toddler standing next to her with gorgeous, flowing, long brown curls and a sweet bow in her hair. But she was jumping up and down, holding her crotch, screaming, "I gotta go pee-pee! I gotta go pee-pee!"

That kept his attention long enough for me to help Katherine wash her hands, dry them off and calmly escort my kiddos out of the bathroom, drama-free! And it might have even looked like they were that good the entire time, to a select few!

Needless to say, making trips to any store with less-than-stellar bathroom facilities is not on the radar anytime soon.

Potty-training: Part deux

We're quickly approaching another major milestone in our family: it's Nathan's turn to learn how to use the potty.

Disclaimer: Son, I know one day when you're looking through the book of all these posts and you find this one, you will be thoroughly disgusted with me. Pictures of you in your underwear, riding a Disney Princess scooter, in the front yard are not the ideal images you'd like portrayed of your budding man-ness. But know this, you've given me enough strife over this potty-training thing that I consider it only fair. I love you dearly now and forever, but that doesn't mean I won't pull out some naked baby pictures of you on your first date if I need to. I am THE KEEPER OF THE PHOTOS in this house and I take my job seriously. Hugs and kisses. Mama :)

I knew I was in for a tad bit of trouble when months ago if I mentioned anything about the potty, his reaction would be a resounding, "NO!"

I would entice him to look in the direction of the potty seat by driving a monster truck around the Dora-decorated rim, and he would shout, "NO Mama! I no sit on the potty!"

I would have incentives (lollipops and brand new dinosaur cards) to get him half-way interested in what goes in and around the potty. No such luck.
So when Daddy announced that he had the whole week of Thanksgiving off, I knew just what to do.

Jim's new nickname: Boy Potty-Training Expert

You see, if daddy mentioned trying out the potty, Nathan would follow him like a little puppy and willingly sit. Maybe for only 4 seconds, but at least he'd try for daddy.

So, unlike many other Thanksgiving holidays most men spent, my gracious husband spent his tied to the house and his little leaking shadow. Jim was successful in getting Nathan to sit, be still, pay attention to internal cues and we're down to about one accident per day.
"Nathan's Pee-Pee Monster Truck Chart" wasn't as big a hit as "Katherine's Pee-Pee Star Chart". He got the concept: every time he went #1 or #2, he got to color in a monster truck and 5 colored monster trucks meant he got to pick out a new coveted book. She thrived on coloring each star after success. Nathan was more interested in coloring the whole page and my fingers covering the rest of the other monster trucks were just in the way.

We're enjoying the new fashion styles running around the house. Tiny hineys not in diapers = major cuteness. We've transitioned from Princesses and Dora to Buzz Lightyear, Lightning McQueen and Diego.
Daddy was so good, that when Katherine and I returned from her dance lessons that first evening, him and Nathan had prepared supper and also our first official "Poo-poo cake." There was #2 success while we were gone and he decided to celebrate by baking a cake. Is he proud or what?